


—haunt me, then!

by siliquastrum



Category: Naruto
Genre: (at the very end), (implied) - Freeform, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hatake Kakashi is Bad at Feelings, M/M, Nightmares, No proof reading we die like mne, Post-Fourth Shinobi War, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, do not copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23148265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siliquastrum/pseuds/siliquastrum
Summary: There are, however, worse nights.Nights where, when the nail finds its mark, Kakashi doesn’t wake up. Tonight is one of those.He is not surprised when he opens his eyes again, and isn’t in his small apartment, but walking towards what he knows is their mission and Kannabi bridge. He can still hear the ceiling fan, and the moonlight filtering through the window, but none of that changes the nightmare.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Maito Gai | Might Guy
Comments: 14
Kudos: 114





	—haunt me, then!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [peytonpeach](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peytonpeach/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Peyton. Sorry it's sad.
> 
> To whatever muse possessed me to write this and make myself sad in the process: are you satisfied now?

It starts simply enough: a white space, the sound of their ceiling fan droning away in the background. 

Kakashi knows he is asleep, knows in reality he is surrounded by blankets, Gai’s quiet half snores less than an arm's reach away. That doesn’t change the fact he can see the nail spiraling towards his face, an indication of what to come. 

He didn’t expect to remember dying. Kakashi made fast friends with death long ago, an irreversible process. He knew sooner or later, it would be his turn. ( _Sooner_ , his younger voice echoes in his mind, _sooner_.) Yet after Pein destroyed the village, and Nagato defied nature for Naruto, Kakashi found himself with memories no-one should have: his own death. 

It often goes like this: the vagueness, the flash of purple, a nail spinning on its inevitable axis, and then dying. Sometimes, that’s when he wakes up, breaths short and shallow as he takes in his surroundings: his bookshelves, the faded rug his ninken have tried to tear apart multiple times, the plants on the windowsill, and Gai. Only then does his heart start to calm down, only then is the spell of panic broken. The times he has woken Gai up, he feels almost guilty, until Gai himself is wrapped around him murmuring sweet words and pressing gentle kisses into his skin, lulling Kakashi into safety. 

There are, however, worse nights. 

Nights where, when the nail finds its mark, Kakashi doesn’t wake up. Tonight is one of those. 

He is not surprised when he opens his eyes again, and isn’t in his small apartment, but walking towards what he knows is their mission and Kannabi bridge. He can still hear the ceiling fan, and the moonlight filtering through the window, but none of that changes the nightmare. 

His adult body feels foreign navigating the world from his childhood: each motion is stilted, puppet-like, and yet his teammates keep moving forward. Forward until Minato leaves them, forward until Rin is captured, forward until Obito snaps him to sense in a matter of sentences. And as the dream knife slashes through his eye, his cry of pain reverberates into reality. 

Next to him, Gai stirs awake. It takes him a few seconds to shake off the cloak of sleep and realise what is happening. He reaches out towards Kakashi, but doesn’t touch him. He knows better: the first time he saw Kakashi locked between dream and reality, he’d tried to soothe his lover, only to be found flat on his back, Kakashi over him haloed by the chirrups of a thousand birds, a primal fear painting all his features. 

As the cave starts to collapse, the world around Kakashi goes cold, hitting sub-zero as Obito pushes him out of the way and the weight of his words crushes Kakashi’s lungs for the rest of his life. “ _Those who abandon their comrades are worse than trash_.” Even now, 20 years later it weighs against him: He abandoned Rin, and when he broke the rules to save a friend he lost Obito. _Worse than trash indeed_ , he thinks, as his hand locks around Obito’s and the world is tinted red. 

How did his father bear it for so long? The guilt and grief threaten to tear him apart, even in the dream.

He doesn’t have a chance to breathe before the trees between home and Kirigakure take shape. _Stop_ , he begs the dream, _don’t take me there_.

He helplessly watches his hands form the seals: _monkey, dragon, rat..._ He knows where the rest of this sequence goes, as the lightning barely dormant under his skin springs to his fingertips with the final motions. And as Rin throws herself in the way and her blood coats his hand, he feels his own heart shatter. _If those who abandon their comrades are worse than trash, then what am I, Obito? Dad?_

He’s aware that he’s viciously trying to scrub the blood off his hands in reality: blood that physically isn’t there anymore but has sunk into every joint muscle and tendon of his left hand for the rest of his - unexpectedly long - life. 

“Kakashi?” Gai’s gentle concern reaches him through the terrors, but doesn’t manage to break the spell. Instead, Kakashi finds himself in a battlefield, his hand shaking from the ghost of Obito’s blood. _Rin’s blood. His father’s blood. His own blood, possibly._ And Gai is standing next to him, tall and proud. No, that’s not right: determined. He turns to face Kakashi and Lee with his usual smile, and with a thumbs up he says that springtime must come to an end. That eventually summer will arrive. The brightness of his resolve outshines the horror that Madara’s wrought, and finds its way into the last remaining cracks of Kakashi’s heart. The realisation of it all burns and heals Kakashi at the same time: he loves Gai. Probably always has, and now he will never get the chance to say so, as the night glows red, and the gate of death opens. 

Only after this does the nightmare release its claws. Kakashi startles to consciousnesses, to the moonlight of the bedroom he shares with Gai, to his heart drumming against his chest as he tries to compose himself. 

He’s automatically reached out for Gai, and Gai is there, gently caressing his cheek which Kakashi is surprised to find damp from tears. He shifts so he can bury his face in Gai’s chest, surrounding himself with warmth. The soft ‘ba-dump’ of Gai’s heartbeat resonates against Kakashi’s forehead: proof that Gai is so _so_ alive and so miraculously _here_. Slowly and steadily Kakashi’s breathing returns to normal and he snuggles up closer, taking up as much of Gai’s space as he can. Gai laughs as some wild strands of lightning white hair tickle his face and the vibrations carry through Kakashi’s bones all the way to his now bandaged heart. 

“Just a bad dream,” Gai reassures, voice heavy from sleep, “safe now.” 

“I know,” Kakashi mutters. 

“I love you.” He says, and his voice catches as he does so, like it always does. It’s difficult for him to say, but Gai knows, and that’s what matters.


End file.
